Page 79 of When a Lady Desires a Wicked Lord
“And expose Alexandra to even more danger?” he said. “Out of the question.”
“Our operatives can extract her from the situation,” Jennie said. “I am confident—”
“I will not abandon her.”
She shook her head. “The fact of it is, we cannot guarantee your safety. Please tell me you will reconsider.”
“I cannot do that.”
“He’s right,” Colton said. “If our operatives enter the building without a proper distraction in play, there’s no telling what Stockwell might do.”
“But Marlsbrook…the thought of losing you or Alex is unbearable.” Jennie’s voice trembled.
“I appreciate your concern, Mrs. Colton,” Benedict said evenly. “I have taken many chances in my life. But this is the first time the risk was truly worth it. I will protect Alexandra. Or I will die trying.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
As the sun descended toward the horizon beyond the fetid London docks, Benedict stared daggers at the cagey old carriage driver who’d transported him to the rendezvous point. According to Jennie Colton, Bertram was one of the most skilled drivers in all of London. For his part, Benedict had no problem believing the man to be a maniac escaped from Bedlam. He’d never encountered a driver who approached his task with such determination to rattle every last tooth out of Benedict’s head. It was a miracle he survived the ride.
Colton believed he was walking into a trap, but Benedict did not see it that way. A trap would create an illusion that danger might be avoided. That was certainly not the case. The rotters who’d taken Alex could not have been more blunt in their demand. They wanted him dead. He’d be damned lucky to get her out of there. And even luckier to walk away alive.
A reasonable man would think better of complying with the captors’ demands. But somehow, reason didn’t factor into this situation. Neither did fear. None of it mattered. All he really cared about was getting her away from her kidnappers. And still possessing the teeth in his head when he encountered her. It would be a damnable shame to play the hero and not even be able to flash a daring smile in the process.
The thought triggered an ill-timed smile. If either of the Coltons spotted him, they’d think he’d gone mad. That was far from the case. He’d never before played the hero. The prospect felt surprisingly good. He was not a coward, but for so many years, his motto had beenEvery man for himselfrather than aspiring to some altruistic ideal.
But this was different.
No matter what—no matter how brutal the cost—he had to save Alex.
He didn’t want to die. He was neither selfless nor stupid. God knew he’d no intention of becoming a martyr. He wanted nothing more than to live a long life with Alexandra in his arms. But that was the rub. Such a life would not be possible if he did not get her away from the bastard who’d taken her prisoner.
If any harm came to her, he could not live with himself. He did not want to be a part of any world that did not have Alexandra Quinn’s sparkling eyes and teasing smile.
So, for once, instead of charging after gold and jewels and the personal medallions of some long moldy-in-his-wrappings pharaoh, he was charging to the rescue. The fact that he loved the woman in question, more than the air he breathed, fueled his resolve.
He did not even consider the possibility of failing.
God knew he doubted his heart would continue to function if he did.
“Ye’re ready for this, lad?” Bertram asked, long gun at the ready.
“Yes.” Benedict pulled in a breath. He’d keep his weapon out of sight. In his jacket pocket, he carried the map he would present as part of her ransom. He was counting on the secrecy with which both Stockwell and Alex had treated the route to the legendary tomb. If her captor had had an opportunity to see the actual document, the ruse would not succeed.
Bugger it, he would not allow himself to consider that likelihood.
Their plan could not fail.
Hecould not fail.
God knew he’d hurt her. He’d let Alexandra down before and had cut her heart deeply because he’d been a fool and a coward.
Not this time… This time, he would be there when she needed him. He would save her life. It wasn’t courage that spurred him on. Not really. He knew better. It was fear—fear of losing her. An existence without Alex in it would not be worth the effort of opening his eyes every morning.
Before him, a riverfront warehouse loomed large. The stink of pollution and dead fish assaulted his senses. The stark gray building was one he’d seen many times over the years, passing by without a thought to its gradual decline as year after year, it had fallen into disrepair. Somewhere, deep within this foul place, Stockwell waited with his captive. How bloody ironic that a place that had never warranted so much as a second glance would suddenly take on such prominence in Benedict’s existence.
Darkness had not yet descended over the city, but it wouldn’t be long. The sky was a deep, nearly charcoal color, blended with a heavy cover of dark clouds. In the distance, thunder rumbled and lightning crackled. How blasted appropriate.
“I’ll stay out here, beyond the main entry.” Bertram gripped a powerful rifle in hands that reminded him of a skeleton cloaked in skin. He’d seen mummies with more fat on their bones. But the determination and courage blazing in the old man’s keen eyes added to Benedict’s confidence.
