Bobbi Smith - Captive Pride

“Lord Kincade’s brother, eh?” The guard sized him up more critically, judging his worth. “Well, I suppose I could bend the rules for a nobleman…for a price.” He added the latter under his breath.

Disgustedly, Matthew tossed the man several coins and then watched as the jailer tested each coin for value.

“I don’t suppose it would do much harm to let you in for a few minutes.” He gave Matt a sly grin as he pocketed the money and then crossed the room to take the keys to the cells down from the hook on the wall.

“Thank you,” Matthew replied stoically, wanting more than anything to knock the guard’s smile right off his fat, smirking face.

After checking Matt for possible hidden weapons, the jailer took up a lamp and led him through a narrow passage to the back of the building. Unlocking a heavy barred door, he shoved it wide to allow Matt to pass through.

“Five minutes. No more. I’ll be waiting right out here.”

“You’ve been most kind.” Matt gave him a pained smile as he stepped into Noah’s private hell.

Noah was lying on the cot in his cell when he heard footsteps coming down the hall toward him. He knew the hour to be late and could only wonder at the reason for the disturbance, since the guard had told him that he would be allowed no contact with anyone until the following day. The sound of Matthew’s voice filled him with hope, and when the door swung open, he rose quickly from the squalid bed to greet his brother.

“Matthew!” They regarded each other in stricken silence for just an instant before embracing.

“What happened?” Matt asked worriedly when they broke apart. He regarded his brother seriously and read in Noah’s troubled gaze all the strain and anxiety he was keeping carefully under control. “We waited at the inn for hours…”

“I know. I’m sorry, but they wouldn’t allow me to send any messages tonight. How did you find out?”

“We accidentally overheard some men talking about Radcliffe’s death and your arrest. Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine once I get out of here,” Noah told him wearily as he began to pace the tiny cell. “I’ve demanded to be taken before the magistrate. If everything goes well, I’ll plead my case tomorrow afternoon and then be released.”

“I don’t understand how any of this happened.” Matt shook his head in confusion. “The rumor was that you had a gun…?”

Noah nodded, his distress with the whole situation reflected in his expression. “I did, but it was Geoffrey’s. He’d just gotten word of James’s death and was convinced that I’d murdered him. He had the gun and was ready to use it. I fought him for it, and it went off while we were struggling.”

“Weren’t there any servants around?”

“Oh, yes. His faithful man, Bartley, was there. He’d refused to let me in initially, so I made the mistake of pushing my way past him. Geoffrey sent him for the authorities, and by the time he got back, the fight was over. He told the constable that I’d broken into the house, and then when they found me holding the gun, standing over him…” Noah rubbed the back of his neck in a weary, almost defeated, motion.

“Did you tell the arresting officer that it was self-defense?”

“Yes, but with Bartley standing there claiming it was the opposite…well, my argument didn’t seem very persuasive.”

“You’ll be out tomorrow.” Matt tried to sound confident.

“I hope so. If not, the Radcliffes will certainly have had their revenge, won’t they?”

“Time’s up!” the guard shouted in an obnoxiously loud voice, abruptly interrupting their conversation.

“I’ll be at your arraignment,” Matt promised solemnly.

“I’ll see you then.”

The jailer was standing at the door grinning evilly as Matthew gave Noah one last reassuring look and then departed. Alone once again, Noah stretched out on the hardness of the cot and stared into the rank darkness of his cell. He’d been through many difficult times lately, but none had been as precarious as the position in which he now found himself. Still, he was Lord Noah Kincade, and that should count for something. Hopefully, justice would be served. Yet even as he tried to envision his own release, he knew the fact of Bartley’s testimony weighed heavily against him. It would not be a simple matter to prove his innocence. Though Geoffrey hadn’t planned his revenge this way, Noah wasn’t at all sure he would be able to escape the dead man’s devious clutches.

Miserably, he tossed on the hardness of the bed, seeking the blissful mindlessness of sleep, but the solace of rest would not come. Instead his thoughts were restless, dwelling first on Geoffrey’s death, then the earlier attack upon himself and Matthew, and finally, on the conversation they’d had shortly before they’d left the Pride. Unbidden, CC slipped into his consciousness as he remembered Matt’s point-blank questioning of his feelings for her. With a muttered curse, he swung his long legs off the uncomfortable cot and sat up. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he rested his head in his hands, his spirits sinking lower by the minute.

CC. Noah swore silently as his wayward thoughts centered on her. It was bad enough that he couldn’t sleep for the memory of his encounter with Geoffrey, but to be tormented by images of CC was almost more than he could bear. Still, despite his desire not to think of her, her image floated through his mind-CC as he’d first seen her when she’d blushed so furiously, caught in the act of censuring English aristocrats…CC dressed in her boyish garb, and their first passionate encounter…CC in his arms in the gazebo, surrendering to the power of their mutual attraction for each other.

The memory of their lovemaking sent a surge of desire through him and drove him to his feet. In agitation, Noah began to pace the cell. He loved CC more than he’d ever loved another woman, but as he had told Matt earlier, he knew there was no hope for their future. Matt had declared that he was sure that she cared for him, but Noah knew that any affection she might have harbored for him had been killed by his blunt brutality to her when she’d come to him in his room.

Noah shook his head slowly in the sad acknowledgment that he had indeed lost her, and in that instant, all his other losses paled in significance. He had thought that money was what he needed to make him feel whole again, but he recognized now that CC’s love was the only thing that would restore him. Determinedly, Noah vowed to himself that he would tell her how he felt once he was cleared of the charges against him. He knew she would be totally justified in laughing in his face, but he also knew he had to make the attempt, for the thought of a life without her was just too painful to even consider.

“Mr. Demorest?” Gilbert interrupted Edward and CC as they breakfasted together.

“Yes, Gilbert? What is it?” Edward asked.

“There’s a boy here with a message for you. He says it’s urgent, sir.”

Edward gave his daughter a regretful glance as he lay his napkin beside his plate. “I’m sorry, my dear. I was looking forward to a leisurely breakfast with you this morning. I’ll rejoin you just as quickly as I can.”

“Of course, Father,” CC replied, trying not to let her nervousness show as she wondered what news the messenger was bringing.

She glanced quickly at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was a little after 10:00 A.M., and CC knew that enough time had elapsed for the “theft” on board the Sea Pride to have been discovered and reported to the necessary port authorities, her father being one. With shaking hands, she lifted the delicate china cup and took a sip of the hot tea, hoping it would soothe her jangled nerves.