Page 62 of Beneath the Devil’s Mask (The Hidden Hearts Collection #4)
“It was worse than that,” he said. “I thought I knew what hell was, but I didn’t, not until I stood outside those damned prison gates, fearing that you might already be exposed to that cursed gaol fever or to the brutalities of some coarse guard.”
A shudder of strong emotion wracked through him. “No, Sorrow, I could not have endured you being in that foul place another moment. I could not take such risks with the woman I—”
He broke off. The word he could not bring himself to say seemed to hang suspended in the air between them. Anne’s heart hammered so wildly she could hardly breathe, for she found the thought completed in the depths of his eyes.
The woman I love.
The moment was too intense and solemn for Anne to feel a flooding of joy.
Mandell turned away from her, grinding his fingertips against his eyes.
He said shakily, “You see, Anne, it is not you who is the coward. I have never known any woman possessed of such quiet courage and strength, capable of feeling such compassion, even for a wretch like me who cannot tell you what you deserve to hear even now.”
“Mandell,” she breathed. He refused to face her. The most she could do was rest her hands upon his shoulders, press her face against the iron line of his back.
His voice cracked as he continued, “You deserved a prince, my dear. Not one like Gerald Fairhaven, but a truly noble man. Instead, you got the dragon.” He raised his hand in a gesture of hopelessness.
“I wonder if all dragons are like me, on the surface fire and bluster, but beneath it all, nothing but smoke and fear.
“You were right that day in the park when you accused me of living my life as though I were still trapped in a dark closet, afraid to allow myself to feel anything but the shallowest emotions. But sometimes you are forced to confront the things you fear, whether you will or not.”
He turned slowly to face her, his eyes glistening. “I love you, Anne. And it hurts as much as I always feared that it would.”
She cupped his face tenderly between her hands. “It is not supposed to be all pain, my love.”
“I know that.” He caught one of her hands, pressing a heated kiss within the center of her palm. “But now I am vulnerable. Now I have something to lose.”
“You will not lose me. I am here with you now and everything is going to be all right.”
She flung her arms tightly about his neck. He responded with a low groan, crushing her in his embrace. His mouth sought her lips, raining feverish kisses over every inch of her face.
“I love you, Anne,” he repeated and again, as though each word was a prayer, a blessing, a miracle. Anne returned his kisses, for one moment allowing herself to be deliriously happy.
His arms tightened about her, straining her close as though he would gather her into the recesses of his heart and hold her safe there forever.
“There was a great love between my mother and father,” he said.
“Even as a child, I was aware of that. But in the end, she died alone, horribly. Her death left me so confused and bitter. My grandfather taught me it was better not to love, that it was an emotion reserved for fools, and I believed him.”
Mandell buried his face against Anne’s hair. “He wanted me both to forget and to remember. And so, the nightmares started, tormenting me until I would cry out in my sleep, a child wanting his mother.”
Anne stirred in his arms, realizing there was something about those dreams that Mandell did not even comprehend himself. She drew back a little, saying hesitantly, “But Mandell, the night that I overheard what you said, you were not crying for your mother. It was your father whose name you called.”
He frowned down at her, his eyes clouding with disbelief. “But I hated him. I always have. He failed my mother when she needed him most. I swear that will not happen with you.
“I won’t fail you, Anne,” he vowed passionately. “I will find a way to keep you safe. But you must tell me everything about that night in the garden with Lucien.”
Lost in Mandell’s arms, dazed by the admission of his love for her, nothing else seemed to matter to Anne. It was as though the events surrounding Lucien’s murder were a bad dream, an illusion already half forgotten. Only this moment was real.
But Mandell persisted. “Obviously, you did not slip away to your bedchamber as I had supposed. And after you had faithfully promised me to stay away from that bastard, that there would be no more midnight wanderings! Then I hear that you have been arrested for shooting Fairhaven.”
“I did not kill Lucien, Mandell, I swear it.”
“It would not matter to me if you had, love. Now go slowly and tell me everything that happened.”
Anne forced her mind back to those last hideous moments of Lucien’s life. Haltingly, she related to Mandell every detail of the terrifying encounter that she could remember.
“Thus the accursed Hook claimed yet another victim,” Mandell said. “But for no reason apparent to any sane man. And why the deuce did he use a pistol this time?”
“I don’t know.” Anne managed a shaky laugh. “He did not tarry long enough for me to ask him.”
Mandell cradled her close, depositing a kiss upon her brow.
“One thing is now certain. We are dealing with no common footpad. This brigand marches to some tune of his own devising, and it has nothing to do with mere robbery. Yet I fear your innocence cannot be proved until this villain is unmasked.”
“But how, Mandell? He is indeed like a phantom. No wonder poor Lucien was so terrified, being stalked by such a creature. He rose in the garden like some specter from hell and vanished just as quickly. No one can guess at his identity.”
“There is one man who might be able to do so. Briggs.”
“Sir Lancelot? But you told me that you feared he had lost his reason.”
“Then I must endeavor to help him find it again.”
Anne heard the grim note in Mandell’s voice. She tipped her head back to peer anxiously at him. A determined light had come into his eyes.
“I have felt all along that Briggs knows something about the Hook, something that he feared to tell. He was so shattered after the attack that I felt loath to press him, but now the matter is more urgent. I will find a way to slip into his house to see him this very night, induce him to speak.”
“No!” Anne caught at the folds of Mandell’s frock coat “You must not go, Mandell. If you are seen upon the streets, you could be arrested.”
He covered her hands with his own. “I must take the risk, Sorrow. Briggs is our only immediate hope. Besides, I never intended that we should spend our lives as the resident ghosts of Windermere Palace. Even now, Hastings will be working to ready provisions, arranging a passage for us away from London. It was all I could do to keep the young fool from storming Newgate with me.”
Mandell’s lips crooked into a deprecating smile. “I seem to have inspired this misplaced devotion and concern for my welfare in Hastings and you.”
He bent to whisper a kiss upon her trembling lips. “Don’t be afraid, Anne. I will be careful, I promise you. If I have no success with Briggs, we shall be gone from the city this very night. I shall tuck you away someplace safe until your innocence can be proven.”
“And if that day never comes?”
“Then I shall find a way to fetch Norrie, and the three of us will make a life elsewhere. I have heard tell that America is not quite so barbaric these days. We could be a family. I would do my best to make Eleanor a good father, and you a tolerable husband. That is, if you would have me.”
Anne had never thought to hear such a humble request from Mandell. Still, she was obliged to shake her head in sorrow,
“What! The lady rejects me again?” He cupped her chin, his eyes shining with tenderness. “But I thought my wretched heart was all that you desired, Anne. And that is what I am offering you.”
“It is all that I desire, all I ever dreamed of. But Mandell, I could not permit you to make such a sacrifice for me, abandoning your estates, your title, everything that you are.”
“Everything that I am, everything that I want to be, I find reflected in your eyes, milady.”
He pulled her close, his mouth covering hers to still any further objection. His kiss was fierce and demanding, claiming all of her, body, mind, and soul, as though he would bind her to him forever.
Reason was no match for a force as powerful as Mandell’s embrace, and Anne surrendered, molding her body to his hard muscular frame, remembering all that he had taught her of passion, returning it to him with love, the two powerful emotions blending to become one.
They kissed, clung, and caressed until they both stood in danger of forgetting the time, the place, and the peril that threatened them. It was Mandell who came to his senses and wrenched himself away.
He drew an unsteady breath and laughed. “You make it deuced hard for a man to leave you, Sorrow, but I must. I want many more nights in your arms, and without any shadows cast over our lovemaking.”
He caught her hand and held it to his lips for a long moment. “I shall return very soon. You must wait for me. You will not be afraid to be alone here?”
Anne shook her head, summoning up her bravest smile. “I shall always have the palace ghost to bear me company.”
“As long as he quite understands that you belong to me.” Mandell quickly abandoned the jesting tone, his eyes turning intent. He drew her into his arms one last time, saying, “Everything will be all right, Anne. You must believe that.”
She believed anything when he looked at her that way, holding her within the circle of his arms. He kissed her, this time more tenderly, and Anne basked in the glow of his love, a rush of warmth thrumming through her veins. Only when he had gone did she begin to feel the cold.