Page 107 of Wicked Rivals
A sad smile curved upon Ashton’s lips. “Take care of yourself, Jon.” If things went poorly, he might not see any of them ever again.
“Be careful.” Jonathan watched as Ashton mounted the horse and rode out of the woods toward the castle.
The sun beat down on Ashton’s head, making his temples throb with an unwelcome headache. The fever from the influenza had gone but had left his skin flushed. If Rosalind’s brothers did not let him inside, he very well might pass out and fall right off his horse.
Castle Kincade was a stout, craggy stone structure that had stood upon this hill for more than two centuries, weathering storms, armies and the winds of change. It was impenetrable. Not even Charles’s wild schemes could find a way to break through.
“Halt!” a man somewhere above the battlements cried out in a thick brogue.
Ashton tugged the reins up and back, stopping his horse. It swung its head from side to side and pawed the dirt restlessly with one hoof. Ashton let his head fall back so he could stare up at the man on the ramparts watching him.
“State your business!” the man barked.
“I’ve come to request an audience with Lady Melbourne.”
The man disappeared from view for several long moments and then finally reappeared.
“The lady says you can go and hang yourself!” He finished with a nod and a mocking salute.
“Rosalind!” Ashton bellowed. “I know you’re up there! Give me one bloody minute and then you never have to see me again!”
The thought of never seeing her again was… No. He would not think about that. He had to see she was safe, and if she wasn’t, he’d remove her immediately. Somehow.
He squinted up at the castle, and suddenly Rosalind’s faced appeared. Her dark hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck, and she looked as tired as he felt.
“Please, Rosalind. Just give me a few minutes. That’s all I ask.”
Her gray eyes were stormy, and he couldn’t miss the hurt in them, even as far below her as he was. She stared at him for a long moment, long enough that he feared she would simply leave him there at the gate.
“Very well,” she finally said and disappeared.
He waited for a few minutes until sounds behind the tall wooden doors of the castle’s entrance alerted him that they would open. At last the doors parted to reveal a darkened hallway. It was clear the castle had been remodeled long ago, and whatever was left of a courtyard had been walled in and floored and made part of the residence. Ashton slid off his horse, landing heavily upon the ground. He was barely able to catch his breath.
A man, heavyset and with a distrustful glare, walked up to Ashton and took the reins to his horse.
“Sassenach,” the man muttered as he led Ashton’s horse away.
Brushing dust off his trousers, Ashton entered the castle interior and abruptly halted. Several men stood there, three of whom he recognized as Rosalind’s brothers, and every man was armed. He had seven pistols trained upon his chest. Two of the brothers parted to allow their sister to stand between them. But none of them in the room were old enough to be her father. Where was the eldest Kincade?
“Rosalind,” he said gently as he studied her more closely. She seemed unharmed, no bruises, but Ashton knew from Godric’s past that bruises could be easily hidden.
She turned to her brothers. “I will speak with him in the drawing room.” When it was clear to her that her brothers intended to stay by her side, she added, “Alone.”
“But—” the eldest protested.
“I’ll be fine, Brock. I’ll call if I need you.” She waved a hand for Ashton to follow her. He did, but he nearly stopped when the men blocking his way didn’t immediately move apart. Her brothers formed an impenetrable wall between Ashton and Rosalind.
“If you do evenonething that upsets her, we’ll feed you to the dogs. Even if you are a nobleman,” Brock warned in a low growl only Ashton and the two other brothers could hear.
“Understood.” Ashton had no intention of upsetting Rosalind, and if he did, then surely he would deserve any fate that came his way. The three Scotsmen finally parted to allow him to pass so he could follow Rosalind.
They entered the drawing room, and Ashton noticed the furniture was coated with dust and the fabrics were faded and outdated. The Kincades clearly hadn’t been able to keep their home in good condition. No doubt Lord Kincade saw Rosalind and her fortune as a way to restore their home to its former glory.
Rosalind stopped before the empty fireplace, her light-blue skirt stirring up dust as she turned to face him. He had a moment to admire the sloping grace of her neck and her lovely profile before she turned to him. A small ache that had been growing in his chest ever since she’d left had gotten even stronger now that he was close to her again. It never ceased to amaze him that this woman had captured his heart and dared him to dream about a better tomorrow.
“Rosalind, I’m here to rescue you.” It seemed that he was at a loss for words yet again. He moved towards her, arms outstretched, desperate to hold her and reassure himself she was safe and well. He came within a foot of her, but then she held up a hand.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t youdaretouch me.”
