Page 52 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
“Do not shed any tears over Newquay, my dear,” laughed Lord Powell in a nasty voice. “His sister told me that he and Lady Frances Lewis are practically engaged. You never stood a chance.”
Christina glared at him, her heart pulsing, almost breaking into two pieces and scattering on the floor.
He twisted her arm again, quite badly, forcing her to move towards the door of the inn. At that moment, it started to rain. Thick, wet drops of rain fell slowly on her head.
Her life was over. What was she going to do now?
***
Sebastian leaned over his horse, squinting into the bitter wind. It was cold, and it was very dark. He glanced to his left to where Daniel was riding beside him. His friend looked as cold, stiff, and exhausted as he felt. It started to rain, great heavy drops falling on his head.
He gritted his teeth. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this – that he had rallied his friend to ride out into the night, searching for Lady Christina Whitford and Lord Powell. Daniel, of course, had agreed to do it with alacrity.
But he hadn’t been able to sleep a wink after he had left Lydia. He had tossed and turned in the bed, thinking about her and how she had just vanished like that in the night.
Mrs Sollock had been genuinely distressed about it – and he trusted the housekeeper’s memory of the event. Lady Christina hadn’t wanted to get into that carriage with Powell. He was sure of it.
And then, other doubts crept into his mind. Why would Powell have gone to such ridiculous lengths to plant her here? She was a lady of noble birth. Would she have agreed to them throwing her down an abandoned mine shaft like that? She might have been killed. It didn’t make any sense at all.
Eventually, the doubts were shouting at him so loudly that he got out of bed, his heart pounding hard.
He got dressed again, cursing softly in the weak glare of a single candle. Within half an hour, he was on his horse, fetching Daniel, before riding off into the night on the road that Mrs Sollock had asserted the carriage had taken.
They were climbing a road towards the top of a hill, where a steep cliff face plummeted to the beach and the sea. Sebastian knew there was an old inn at the top, where wayfarers drank, and travellers sometimes stopped to rest.
As soon as he saw it, he indicated to Daniel to pull over. It was worth investigating in case they had stopped there at some point and someone had seen them.
They were almost to the inn door when it suddenly burst open. Sebastian stopped short, his heart pounding heavily. He was staring into Powell's face, and Lady Christina was standing by his side.
His eyes swept over her. She looked pale, tired, and more miserable than he had ever seen her. And then he noticed Powell’s tight grip on her arm and knew she hadn’t gone with him willingly.
He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Mrs Sollock’s version of what had happened tonight had been real.
His heart was filled with tenderness, so light and effervescent that it was as if it were floating inside him. He didn’t care if her name was Georgina or Christina or who she was. All he knew was that he must save her from this brute of a man.
“Take your hands off her, Powell,” he growled, reaching for her and pulling her away from the grip of the man. “I know that you took her against her will.”
Christina stumbled, falling against him. Her face had transformed from utter exhaustion and abject misery to hope and joy. She gasped, gazing up at him. He could see the light from the inn reflected in her eyes.
“You came,” she breathed, her words ending on a sob. “You came for me.”
They stared at each other for a moment, their eyes locking. Sebastian lost all sense of time and place. It was as if he were drowning in those cool, green depths.
But then, Powell lunged, trying to grab her again. His face was mottled red with fury.
“You have no right, Newquay,” the man spat, his eyes sparking with rage. “She is my fiancée by law. Just ask her father, the Viscount Draycott. He will tell you the truth of it. You have no right to take her from me!”
“You are not my fiancée!” cried Christina, suddenly furious, her green eyes glittering. “I refuse to marry you!” She turned to Sebastian. “I will not marry that man! He is the reason I was running away from my home that day. I stopped for a short break and fell into the mine. That is the truth of it. I swear it to you on my life.”
Sebastian turned to her. “You do not need to swear anything,” he said in a soft voice. “I believe you.” He swallowed a painful lump in his throat. “Do you remember everything now? Do you remember who you are?”
She nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. “Yes. I remember and know I was running away from him.”
“You are my fiancée by law!” cried Powell, his face puce with rage. He waved a fist in her face. “Your father agreed to the marriage, and that makes it binding, My Lady. It does not matter what you think or want …”
“You will take her over my dead body,” growled Sebastian, stepping between Christina and Powell, glaring at the man.
“That can be arranged,” cried Powell, his eyes narrowing. The man swung a fist at him quite blindly. Sebastian ducked, raising his fists in the air to defend himself.
