Page 72 of The Untamed Duke
“And how did you do that?” Grace asked woodenly.My dear, sweet, funny Llyr is gone. Gone...gone...
Sebastian closed his eyes at the horrible memory. “In the quickest, least painful way possible. I—I slit his throat. It was over, almost instantly, exhausted and broken as he was. I barely got Nicholas out of there before the beam crashed down the rest of the way. The entire aisle was engulfed in flames and thick smoke, but I remembered an old side door Hugh showed me once leading to the back paddocks. I busted it open and got us out of there.” He choked, eyes welling with tears. “I couldn’t save all of the yearlings...they were too frightened and wouldn’t leave their stalls no matter how I yelled and cursed at them. My greys, they are gone as well. I believe your carriage horses made it out. And maybe all the broodmares, mine too. I assume Nicholas opened their stalls as he passed, hoping they would bolt for the outside.”
“My Llyr is dead,” Grace said with no emotion. Her hand trembled as she passed it over Nicholas’s brow, brushing back his blood-soaked hair. Tears landed on his chest and were absorbed by his shirt. “Nicholas risked his life for my sake, and you risked your life for his. Thank you, Sebastian, for saving him. Thank you for easing Llyr’s suffering. For doing what needed to be done.”
“I wish—I wish I had gone in sooner. Perhaps, between the two of us, we might have saved him. And the others.”
“It is done now. I’m grateful you are both alive.”
Grace ducked her head, bowing closer to Nicholas’s lips. He muttered something, stirring with her touch. Then he coughed, a wretched sound that made her wince.
“We must get His Grace into a bed. Robbie,” Grace addressed the stable lad crouched down nearest her. “Ride for the village and fetch the doctor. The rest of you, follow Hugh’s directions in capturing the horses.” She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue, “We’ll deal with everything else in the morning.”
Chapter 28
She seeks me out despite the cold
The infection of my darkness
The cruelty of my soul’s endless winter
She has decided she needs me
~Nicholas August Harris March
Ninth Duke of Richeforte
Knives.Jammed into his skull. Relentless and cruel. Why it was happening, he did not know. Every time he tried rubbing his head, it was with hands too clumsy and thick to ease the pain. At one point, he howled with frustration, reaching up and finding the movement arrested.
“Do not fret so, Your Grace.” A soothing voice admonished gently. “You must calm yourself, else we shall restrain you. Shhh...”
Restrain him? Who would dare such a thing? Nicholas reached for his head again, desperate for relief. Someone gripped his arms in an infuriating manner. Opening his eyes, he couldn’t understand the vision before him.
An angel. With soft blonde hair and eyes the color of Heaven’s Golden Gates. They were ringed in dark shadows, the tracks of tears on her pale cheeks. She wore a pastel lavender gown, with ropes of ivory braids edging the neckline.
Do angels wear colors other than white?
Befuddled, his gaze shifted. A dark-headed devil with a sad, crooked grin held down his arms.
“Am I dead, then?” Nicholas croaked, wondering at the dry, raspy quality of his voice. His throat ached like hell. It felt as though he was on fire from the inside out. “Has Sebastian finished me off? He was always a good enough shot with a pistol. I haven’t told him the truth though. I must tell him…”
“Shhh, Nicholas. Drink this,” the angel said, as iridescent as if made of sunbeams.
Something cool and sweet passed between his lips. Grateful when the stabbing pain in his head eased after a few moments, Nicholas melted beneath her touch. He reached up, intent on touching the beautiful face above him, but the angel gently took his hand. She pressed a kiss on the inside of his wrist with a barely audible sob. There was a throbbing within his palm, stacked in agonizing layers, and keeping his eyes open was increasingly difficult.
“It’s all right,” the angel whispered, her tears landing in silky drops on his skin. “I’m here, I’m with you. Sleep now.”
He drifted. Like a feather released into a high wind. Light shifted and shimmered all around him, glittering and beautiful. Floating. In the sea. On a cloud. On a ship made of diamonds and pearls and gossamer wings. The angel never let go of his hand, smiling at him with those eyes made of amber and gold.
I know her…
Grace. This angel,hisangel was Grace. He could never forget her. How could he when his soul was bound with hers?
* * *
In and out Nicholas drifted.Sometimes the screams of horses invaded his mind, other times the sound of gunshots. Or the crack of wood splitting and crashing above his head. He saw faces...Grace’s lovely one, bending over him, eyes dark with worry and fear. Sometimes, she sobbed. Her pale face hidden in her hands. She would look up, and those haunted, pain-filled eyes of hers would bore into him, as if she could see all his dark secrets, as if she knew every wish and longing he carried in his tortured heart.
An army of invisible foes persisted on attacking him. Some unknown while others were once close friends. He saw Sebastian, that handsome face of his streaked with black soot. Sometimes with blood. And Alan Bentley’s charming, striking smile turned toward him, laughing as if sharing a jest. Once, Nicholas saw his own father standing with Marilee Godwin, Sebastian’s former fiancée. They stood in the center of a blazing fire, scowling one minute, laughing maniacally the next. Tristan was with them, but when Nicholas called out his name, he turned his back.
